


inside this room

by Punxutawney



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-21
Updated: 2008-09-21
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9640127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punxutawney/pseuds/Punxutawney
Summary: Tonight, she tells, and we're told.





	

The air in the room touches my skin colder than I remember: it's been a while. Still, it's easy to fall back into our old patterns, take the familiar steps. Her voice, as low as it usually is when we're here, has a hurried tone as she insists he undress me before her. Our madonna speaks and her word is our precept. A glorious burn as his fingernails scrape the back of my neck when he pulls me into a kiss. His lips always so soft, so sinfully soft, he sucks my lower lip into his mouth, a gentle bite. I close my eyes as he pushes me onto the bed, but I know she's sat down on the sofa, her all-seeing eyes over us.

On my freshly bitten lips I can taste him, and her, too. He smelled of her already when I stepped into the car tonight. His hands are demanding, his movements almost angry. He's already torn my leather jacket off me and now proceeds by tugging at my shirt, clearly annoyed by my new condition. I turn my head, the sheet is cool against my burning cheek, and meet her gaze. Her eyes as stern as ever, she lets her small hand rest on her now-exposed thigh. Milky-white, satin-soft, I'd like to lick her skin right there, and I almost cry out as he decides I'm not paying enough attention and bites down on my nipple. He wasn't this frantic before, and I wonder what went on between them before they picked me up.

Her skirt rides a little higher, but he kisses me again, rubbing tentatively my shoulder and the spot where flesh meets prosthetic. 

..

Following a strange dogma, we never discuss anything of importance inside this room. Truthfully, we don't discuss at all: here, words are all ordering, begging, claiming. Tonight, she tells, and we're told.

"Turn him over," a merciful command. She's biting her lip, skirmed out of her skirt and slowly unbuttoning her blouse. I catch a glimpse of her bright white bra before his strong hands force me around, push and pull and tug until he's satisfied with his arrangement. On all fours, his fingers entwined in my hair, I feel like a sacrifice before her ever-stern gaze.

..

It is heaven and hell all at once, a burning cold and freezing hot feeling. He's pushing relentlessly in, pulling out, his fingers digging into my hip; I have her scent, sweetly bitter, in my nose. She squirms underneath me, and their hands meet on my hips, I can feel her flat smooth stomach against mine, and her breath on my neck. He pulls back, too much, I want to protest, and the second he's away is an eternity of loss -- and then he slams back into me with such force and she pulls my cock into her, and the blood in my veins has no idea where to rush. I think I sob into her red hair, breathing her in, sweet and bitter still. His other hand's fingers draw patterns on my back.

**Author's Note:**

> I maybe wrote this for a kink meme?


End file.
